Until I Was Falling
by Doughnutswilderness
Summary: Steve Did not believe what Tony said about learning to love this new world, that is until he was falling. Then it his Steve how there really was good things in this new life, even when he felt like there was nothing to live for.


_**Please read the authors note at the end. It conations very important information as to why I wrote this fic.**_

" _Until I was Falling"_

" _When you feel like giving up, just remember the reason why you held on for so long" – Unknown_

* * *

"It is so different Tony. It is like people don't even care. No one even talks on the street anymore."

"You will learn to love this world, it's not as bad as it may seem at first"

That was Tony's response to Steve when he found him one day, just sitting on his leather chair looking out the window. Steve seemed in despair about the world he found himself in now. It was so different compared to the time he grew up in. Steve sighed, not seeming all that convinced.

"It is a whole new world out there Tony. I will just have to adapt, but don't think I'm going to stop being polite. People don't even hold doors half the time these days!" Steve joked.

Tony chuckled and gave Steve a pat on the shoulder.

"Whatever floats your boat Cap." and then walked away.

Tony didn't know that Steve thought everything Tony had said about this new world was crazy. There was no way he could ever feel at home in this time. He was the man out of time. He didn't belong here, he was simply a visitor, here to help until they didn't need him. All his friends and family were gone, the politics changed, the price of milk was drastically different, the communication etiquette had changed, and even the food was different. Everything was just a little off.

PTSD was also a problem. Back in the day, a man come home from war with shell shock, he was thought to be crazy. Off to a mental hospital he would go. Steve knew it was different now, but he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone about the flashbacks, the things that triggered memories, or the nightmares. If he told them, they would make him see a shrink, and he would be locked up, or maybe just kicked off the team for being unstable. He was the leader, he couldn't let it show.

So night by night Steve got less and less sleep. He still managed to keep it together, no one seemed to notice a thing, and Steve almost wished they would. Steve became more jumpy when not on a mission, mini flashbacks happening more often. No one saw a thing.

One day Steve panicked. He was starting to forget. It took him way to long to remember his mothers favorite song. Once he remembered he quickly wrote it down. After that day he noticed other things were starting to fade. Dum Dum's laugh started to fade from his mind, he knew in memory how to describe it, but the sound was lost to his ears. He couldn't remember the old store owner's name, who used to sneak Bucky and him a piece of candy every so often when they were kids.

Then one day, Steve couldn't quite remember Bucky's voice when he sang. That was something almost no one knew. Steve drew well, but Bucky could sing. He always hid it because he didn't think it was manly or practical. But the day it faded from Steve's mind was horrible. He spent hours trying to remember. It just wouldn't come back. Then he feared he would forget Peggy's voice. After all, voices will always eventually leave your brain if you don't hear them enough. He couldn't remember Bucky's singing, but he could remember the yell as he fell from the train, that memory would haunt Steve's dreams forever.

It had been 70 years as far as everyone was concerned, Steve should be over it. But for him, it was just about a year. As far was Steve was concerned, only Captain America came out of the ice. No one ever called him Steve, it was just some form of "Cap" or "Rogers". He knew this world hardly even needed Captain America, let alone Steve Rogers.

Tony was wrong. Steve didn't love this new world. He knew his was flawed as well, but it was familiar. It was something he knew, and there was people he knew. Everything was different now. He knew there was good thing out there, there had to be. But he just couldn't find them, or enjoy them. He had lost all he loved, he was here only to protect what was left of his ideals, and to try and not let people die.

So he became Captain America in the suit and out of the suit. Complete focus on his job and taking care of the others. Steve was _fine_ , anyone would tell you that. Nothing was wrong with Captain America.

Until one day he cracked.

Steve had a very bad flashback that day, he didn't even want to think about it. A door was slammed in the kitchen, and for some reason it reminded Steve of a gunshot. He ducked his head slightly. He quickly excused himself and left the kitchen and went down to his room. Gunshot after gunshot filled his ears, screams of men in pain pierced his brain. His red shirt looked like blood, not his own, but blood from a man he cradled in his arms, moments before death. Steve quickly ripped his shirt off tossing it to the floor.

Once the attack finally passed, it left him hyperventilating on his bedroom floor. Once Steve somehow managed to gain control, he took a shower and decided he needed some sleep, as he probably got around 14 hours total last week. Needless to say, that was a bad idea. He woke up from a horrible nightmare, covered in sweat. It was a jumble of war memories, and a future that he could have had, but was sadly stolen from him. Steve longed for a life with Peggy, Bucky and the others that he will never have. He was just 25, he didn't want any of this.

So Steve stumbled out of bed, flashes of death, the crash and Peggy all constantly flashing through his brain. Steve grabbed the handgun from his bedside table and sat on his bad, cocking the weapon so it was ready to fire. Steve looked at it in his hands. No, he couldn't go this way. It would be too messy for whoever found him. He would hate for someone to walk in and see his brains blown out, and blood all over his bed.

Steve walked out to his balcony, the gun still in his hand. He looked over the edge of the railing. He could jump. His floor wasn't too high in the building, it would defiantly do the job, but it probably wouldn't leave a huge mess. Plus, Steve had a corner suite, so he could jump from the left balcony so he would fall into the alley way. If he did that most likely no one would see, and Jarvis could warn the team before they saw him.

That was it, Steve decided this is how he would go. He tossed the gun onto the patio chair he had on the balcony and climbed over the railing. He found himself standing on the tiny ledge on the wrong side of his balcony fence. He looked down below him. He knew this was shameful, he felt like he was letting down Captain America, and all those who helped him get from skinny to Steve all the way to an "American Hero", the only thing he ever wanted. But for once since he woke from the ice, He wanted to act as Steve, not the Captain. So he thought of all that he lost, and all that was stolen from him. Things he had, and things he could have had. He remembered all the flashbacks he kept having, the nights when he was lucky to get one hour of sleep. The disconnection he had with everyone, no one even called him Steve, or asked how his day was.

Steve tried to remember the way Peggy spoke, and found he couldn't. He didn't know if it was because he was so flustered and in the moment, or if he truly forgot, but that was enough.

Steve Jumped.

Only then did Steve understand what Tony meant. As he began to fall, he took notice of the sunrise. The beautiful colors caught his artist eye. He remembered the little kid he saw at the park, in a wheelchair but still out playing with his dog. The newly married couple taking wedding photos, the bride's white dress trailing behind her, as they smiled at each other.

Steve Remembered the little French girl he saved last week on a mission, she was nothing but collateral damage to the enemy, she just happened to be near by. Steve had saved her. The priceless look on her face when she saw Steve could speak a little French, some words he picked up from being in the Howling Commandos. They all learned a little French so they could communicate with Jacques Dernier. Her eyes lit up when someone knew what she was saying, even if only a little. Through Steve translating for the girl, the Avengers found her family and she was returned safely to them.

Steve remembered the small things, how Thor loved having someone almost his size at the dinner table, both Steve and Thor would eat more than the whole team combined.

Steve may have lost everything, but he gained something.. A team who followed him to battle and along the way, they would try and fix the world, and each other. A chance to once again help save the world, something he always wanted to do. Help others. He had the chance to make sure the future he died for would stay good.

That was the reason he was trying so hard, the reason he wanted to fight when he was a scrawny kid, the reason he joined the Avengers in this strange new time. To save what is good. To protect those who can't protect themselves.

But it was too late, while this realization seemed to go in slow motion, he defiantly was falling full speed. Steve knew in that moment that he could have solved some of his problems, tried to connect with his team more, and made and effort to find the good things this world had to offer. He had lost a lot, but he hadn't tried to find anything new since he woke from the ice. But there was nothing to do now, nothing but fall.

He didn't believe the words Tony said, until he was falling and at that moment it was too late. He closed his eye and got ready for impact, regret and fear filled his body, waiting to hit the cold hard ground.

* * *

*line Space*

* * *

"Sir?"

"Year Jarvis?"

"It would appear to seem like Captain Rogers is about to ah…jump from his balcony."

"What?!" Tony demanded, dropping whatever project he was working on onto the work bench.

"He is climbing over the railing, and he seems to be in distress" Jarvis Responded.

"Get my suit now!" Tony said, already running out of his workshop as parts of the suit followed, attaching themselves to Tony as he walked. Tony knew he couldn't get down to Steve's Floor in time. So he tried flying out the window.

Just before Steve thought he would hit the ground of the alley below, he felt something grab under his arms. He opened his eyes quickly, to find he was moving up instead of down. He turned his head around and saw the Iron Man mask. Tony. He had somehow caught him. As soon as they landed back on Steve's balcony, the mask went up to show Tony's face.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?! Dammit Steve!" Tony yelled.

Just as he was about to yell again, Steve spoke.

"You were right. This world isn't so bad. I couldn't see that until…..until I was falling"

Steve paused again, looking at Tony for a moment.

"Thank you for catching me in time."

Tony looked at Steve, no longer planning to yell, as the adrenaline and panic of the moment was starting to fade. He knew there was going to be a whole lot to talk about, and boy did it need to be talked about, so he just nodded instead of yelling.

"Come on, lets get you some warm milk and we can talk about this okay?"

Tony said, knowing warm milk was a thing from Steve's time and would be sure to comfort him.

* * *

 **The End.**

 **The two statistics that made me write this:**

 **Fact 1: 22 United States Veterans commit suicide daily. That is one death every 65 minutes.**

 **Facts 2: People who survived suicide attempts by jumping off the Golden Gate bridge often regret it halfway down. One survivor said " I instantly realized that everything in my life that I'd thought was unfixable was totally fixable, except for having jumped. "**

 **I wanted Steve to deal with PTSD and the loss he has, I feel it is often skipped over. There is no way this man has no mental marks from everything he has seen and lost. I also wanted him to come to the realization that many of the survivors of jumping of the golden gate bridge seem to have. I know many things that hurt Steve can't be fixed, or brought back. But I tried to have him notice even the small things in the world that are beautiful, for him to not focus only on the big bad things, and the things he lost.**

 **Suicide is a real issue and so is PTSD. People often forget our men and women who come home from war, many have physical and mental wounds. We shouldn't let them and others dealing with suicide suffer alone.**

 **(USA) Suicide lifeline phone number: 1-800-273-8255**

 **~ Doughnutswilderness**


End file.
